


a very earthling question

by watername



Category: SHINee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Aliens, M/M, Romantic Comedy, i have feelings in my heart and in my pants for an alien mechanic, so you sucked an alien dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:20:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29425182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watername/pseuds/watername
Summary: 'their names are jinki and minho. minho's the one in blue. jinki's out back trying to fix the ship. they crashed.''you talked to them.''no, they're telepathic. just - beamed it. right into my head,' taemin says, his eyes sparkling with mockery. 'yeah of course. i even introduced you too.'earth girls are easy, onkey (and 2min) style.
Relationships: Choi Minho/Lee Taemin, Kim Kibum | Key/Lee Jinki | Onew
Comments: 22
Kudos: 41





	a very earthling question

there is a spaceship behind kim kibum's salon. it was not there last night, and it has no right to be there now.

this is, coincidentally, the least of kim kibum's problems. he is a vivid, lifelike illustration of human misery: from breaking up with his on-and-off again (strike that - _permanently off_ ) boyfriend, and ritualistically categorizing all the places in his life yet to be cleansed of his presence; to the impending foreclosure of his business; to the sniffing bloodhounds of the other competitors in the area, ready to acquire his absurdly sizeable space.

(it is absurdly sizeable, to taemin's very helpful observation, because there's hardly ever customers. the market is temperamental, and not temperamental enough, in equal measure.)

the apartment he occupies above the space is tiny, made tinier with taemin's form crowding the couch. kibum is here, mulling the utter dead end that his life has become, when a great collision rocks the alley dumpster.

and. it is a spaceship. it is definitely a spaceship, almost cartoonishly so. it's about the size of a parade float.

it's probably a parade float, is his second thought. some idiot drunkenly taking it for a joyride. look, there's an opening, light beaming out before it's blocked out by one body, then another. two figures that are probably human, beneath their bobbled helmets, their thick, stuffy jumpsuits.

this neighborhood gets all sorts of characters. it's why kibum chose it a little over a year ago, taking a chance on the already crowded area - the unfriendly lease agreement - the questionable landlord. these are just two more characters, talking in a garbled tongue that kibum isn't hearing right.

it's 4am, anyway, and kibum doesn't have time for this. he'd have time if he were jobless, which he is determined not to be.

so he throws on his headphones, viciously tugs off taemin's socks in a pique of spiteful vengeance, and heads to his bed to mull over ways to make his bank account stretch even thinner.

\----

'hey kibum, there's someone banging on the door. hey. hey, kibum.'

kibum is sleeping, he would be horrified to recognize, halfway on his laptop. it has lodged a canyon of a line across his cheek. when he scrambles up, his joints aching from the unnatural position he had dozed off in, he finds the time on his phone - 7:17 am.

'do you mind? i'm trying to sleep.' taemin says, nonchalant.

'god you are just the worst,' kibum says. he is looking down at his phone, checking his email when the reminder comes up - _bank visit 730_. 

fucking shit, goddamn, fuck everything - the bank, his loans for the space, seeing if he's using the space as intended and isn't secretly - something. insolvent? incompetent? kibum is certainly _something_ , something sharp and biting and near-poisonous in proximity, as he throws on his clothes and tries to arrange his hair into something presentable. taemin holds up a bar of deodorant as he passes and kibum grabs it and pauses to apply it, unwilling even in his panic to let the stink of body odor be his signature scent.

he hurtles downstairs, his shoes sliding off at the heel as he careens down the stairs. from the salon he can see the banker - auditor - realtor, even? (whichever of these is technically correct, the morally correct title is _pain in the ass_ ) standing outside the door. it's only 7:27 and he's been at the door for 10 minutes, chomping at the bit to rob kibum of his pride and joy. what a miserable bastard.

he is flipping on the lights, and taking one last duck into the bathroom when he spies them. the aliens. the parade floaters. whoever. they're just _standing_ there, one of them a good 4 inches than the other, helmets still on like they're robbing him. one of them has a device in his hand that looks halfway between a smartphone and a gun. 

holy fuck he's being robbed. he has literally negative to give, and he's being robbed. 

or

or

he's desperate, is his excuse. he puts his hands together, and extends them out. 

'look. i will give you anything you need, if you can just let me pretend you are customers for 15 minutes. just to get his asshole off my back? alright? just - ' he nods, looking between the two of them. the shorter one on the left, clad all in yellow, makes a jerky motion that might be a nod? he'll take it, especially when he moves to put away his gun phone. kibum makes a reckless motion to grab his hand and lead him out. the other one in blue is following when kibum glances over the top of the yellow-tinged helmet. the one whose being tugged along, his grip is loose, almost skittish, but kim kibum is not a quitter. he maneuvers both of them into chairs and holds out his hands again. 

'just - stay there. and play along. please.'

before they can respond, or decide kibum's meager wealth is worth the charade, he turns away and schools his features as he strides to the door, popping it open with a cool, professional 'good morning'.

'mr. kim,' the bank asshole says, like he's the one being inconvenienced in every aspect of his life. 'am i interrupting?'

'actually, you are,' kibum replies, opening the door wider. 'i had some urgent client requests to handle this morning, so we'll have some company. i hope that helps you make an informed determination on our operations.'

he's impressing even himself with his handling. the asshole is looking at the two, weird as they are, like they aren't random intruders. which, no, of course not. of course. kibum moves forward to make the case more persuasive. 

'i think we're ready to take that off now, sir,' he says to the one in yellow, whose gripping the ends of the chair like he's terrified. still, he doesn't make any motions when kibum moves towards the - neck latch? of the helmet - where it clicks into his get-up. when kibum fumbles with it, he gently moves his hands aside to do it himself, releasing the catches and lifting it up off his head in a smooth, practiced motion.

and, well. shit. kibum doesn't really have time to dwell on how gorgeous one of his assailants is, with sweet, expressive brown eyes. there's a discoloration to his cheeks, a yellow blush brought out by the vibrant tones of his clothes. his nose is thick, straight, and sharp cheekbones and jawline that together are really affecting his ability to make this whole thing believable. he clears his throat and meets those eyes with his own eyes wide, encouraging and asking for forgiveness as he moves to run his fingers through his hair.

his purple hair. it's one of the nicest dye jobs he's seen in a while, perfectly and naturally applied like it had grown out of his scalp like that. if his robber is from one of his competitors, coming in here and scaring the hell out of him, he's going to be monumentally pissed, but at that point he'll have to concede he's outskilled. it's not even fried out, it's almost inhumanely soft. perfect styling, too, framing his face - jesus, that face - like art.

he plays with it for a moment - a half-second - too long, but hides it with a murmur of consideration. 

'excellent, i think this is about what you were expecting?' he turns the chair around to face the mirror and the man _growls,_ like he's surprised, or scared, by the motion - like he's never been in a spinning chair? goddamn everyone loves these chairs, it's weird. but it tapers off when kibum steadies it at the stop, his black-painted fingernails resting at his shoulders.

(he can feel them shift slightly beneath his touch, and he's keyed up on panic, chalking his noting of that up to panic)

the man is just staring, silent now, at his reflection, and the asshole is still watching them. his (gorgeous, awkward) robber must have stage fright, so kibum smiles wide in the mirror, meeting his eyes. after a moment he follows the silent instruction, crinkling his eyes, breaking his face into an all new level to kibum's panic, with a wide, warm smile that feels like sunshine. he _looks_ like sunshine, all in yellow, like a lavender flower blooming. 

'great!' he says, chirpy in a way that sounds unbelievable to his own ears, but he's moving onto the other one, who is already moving to take his helmet off. 

well, fuck, they're both good-looking. this one is a hell of lot less tolerant of kibum's performance, spinning himself around, moving away from his hands as he goes to check out his hair (black, surprisingly close to standard, especially in comparison). it's short in the nape of the neck and when he makes a motion to get up, kibum pinches, hard, giving himself a moment of surprise to push down, his hands full-weighted against his trapezius muscles.

at that point, he goes with the program; his smiling motion is a little quicker, but kibum has already picked his favorite and it's too little, too late, robber asshole.

'we can settle up after we're done, okay, guys? thanks again!' he hates his customer service voice - he doesn't even use this voice for real clients - but bank asshole seems like the type of guy who says 'the customer is always right' so he rubs it in extra sweet. he takes his time settling in, setting his shoulders down and back, lifting his chin high as he plays the part.

'these were just two of the clients we have booked today. actually - they were multi-day appointments, follow-up to ensure all their services were to their exact requests. performers, you know?' he knows he doesn't know. and he _knows_ that bank asshole knows he doesn't know, that he has no idea what's trendy, or stylish, or experimental. helmets for protecting hair? why the fuck not. he'll sell that line all day long if he has to.

he doesn't have to. bank asshole is taking photos - without even asking! - and making notes on his phone. he made the case that he could make, and it was better to have someone here than not. even if they were a little difficult and a little criminal.

'well, thank you for your time,' bank asshole says suddenly. he moves to stand and shakes kibum's hand. when he turns, the two - instead of waiting in their chairs - are standing shoulder to shoulder, their helmets at their hips, expressionless, like a low-rent daft punk. he squares his shoulders like everything's normal here, and sees the asshole out with a cool nod.

as soon as he leaves - 

he exhales, letting his shoulders and his head drop, releasing a moan to start, and then turning it into a yawn as the adrenaline starts to settle. the lack of sleep, the push to herd his brain into performative professionalism, on top of negotiating his own robbery.

oh. right. he's being robbed. 

giving less than a fuck (but not zero fucks), he turns and resigns himself. 

'thank you,' he says firstly, pointing it towards the one in yellow. 'ironically you probably saved my ass.'

the one in blue rumbles, like a whiny drunk, before it turns into a questioning 'ass?' the one in yellow turns to him, sharp, an obvious look of dismay on his face. he gestures, hurky, at his gun-phone - kibum tries to take a look at it, but suddenly takes several steps back as the one in yellow - not blue, it would have been easier if it were blue - raises it and aims it at him.

'whoa whoa, just - wait, i can get you - i can get you whatever money, i just have to go upstairs - ' and he squeezes his eyes shut as the one in yellow squeezes his hand, and it fires - 

nothing happens. well, not _nothing_ \- there's some odd, light noise, like chimes, like the rounding noise of a balloon being blown up, and kibum dares to open its eyes and there are _bubbles_ , iridescent in a way that doesn't quite look right, black and purple and green and red, stringing from one color to the next in a rhythm that's shifting, like it's looking for the perfect hue to settle on, shrinking and expanding out with little explorative tones that feel, inexplicably, like sticking your tongue out to taste the air, except with sound.

it doesn't look real, so jury's out if he's now suffering visual hallucinations, but he glances at the other two and finds the one in yellow is looking at him, with increasing levels of horror.

he opens his mouth and _shrieks_ , incomprehensible syllables that make kibum want to cringe in on himself, but he's also still looking at him long enough to see his eyes shift, from the human brown to an alien orange.

alien.

 _spaceship_.

he's not proud of it, but he passes out. at least in unconsciousness, he doesn't have to worry about dignity.

* * *

when he comes to, he's propped up in one of the salon chairs. across from him, taemin is sitting on the counter, playing with a pair of scissors. honestly, it's one of the most disconcerting things he can think of, and that's _before_ the blue alien walks into view. taemin beams at him, and gets a smile in return, more tentative than earlier, more genuine.

'taemin,' he says, urgent and undecided about whether or not he needs to risk his life for his worst friend. 'what are you doing?'

'waiting for you to wake up. eating cereal.'

he doesn't have cereal. he ignores this discrepancy and slowly starts to get up. the one in blue doesn't stop him from steering taemin away so they can have this conversation slightly more privately. he still doesn't know where the one in yellow is.

'this is going to sound crazy. but these guys - they're not human - i don't think so, anyway.'

taemin puts his finger on his lips to shush him - to actually shush him, like he's a child and not the most rational, most human individual in the building. 

'i know. they showed me their ship outside. it's pretty cool, actually.'

he turns to retrieve a box of cereal from behind the nearest mirror. this would explain kibum's ant problem. his arm goes elbow-deep as he takes a handful and starts eating it dry, talking around it.

'their names are jinki and minho. minho's the one in blue. jinki's out back trying to fix the ship. they crashed.'

'you talked to them.'

'no, they're telepathic. just - beamed it. right into my head,' taemin says, his eyes sparkling with mockery. 'yeah of course. i even introduced you too.'

'kibum,' says a new voice behind him. taemin keeps munching his cereal. kibum turns. 

jinki looks infinitely more composed from earlier, which is impressive considering he looks like he's been actively rooting around in an engine, dark smears across his forehead, his gloves covered in something undeniably gooey. unfortunately nothing has really changed the actual _look_ of him, and kibum - who will need therapy - chokes around his first 'hi' like an idiot.

the second one comes out a little smoother. it's hard to hear himself over taemin's chewing. 

'kibum,' jinki says again.

'what?' he asks.

'that's all we've managed so far,' taemin says from behind him. when kibum turns to look, he shrugs and puts the box down, licking his fingers clean. 'but it's impressive, right? i'm probably going to be in history books.'

'lucky us,' he hisses. 'you don't even know they're peaceful.'

'um, you've been passed out for at least 30 minutes. and they left you alone and put you in that chair. i was up for leaving you on the floor. they're better than me.'

'low. fucking. bar.'

minho has moved to their side, looking between them like he's unsure whether to intervene or not. kibum turns away in a huff. so now he gets to handle aliens. he can't just leave them to taemin. 

with a start, he realizes how much brighter it is outside, and, checking his phone, realizes he's near to the opening hours. he can't afford to leave the little he has, to take up recreational alien-babysitting. he also has, like, an obligation as a member of the human race to not have their ambassador be _taemin_. 

he takes what he thinks is a discreet glance at the other three, and finds jinki looking back at him, patiently waiting. he flashes a nervous smile and looks back down to his phone. 

ok.

plan.

small kernel of a plan. jinki is working on their ship. he can keep an eye on him from the salon, with the back door popped open. and he'd rather keep both aliens handy, but if he has them both down here, then taemin will undoubtedly lurk around too. so.

'go back upstairs,' he orders the pair of them. minho doesn't understand him, but he jabs his finger up to communicate the general spirit of it. taemin shrugs, but grabs minho's hand all the same. 

his human-looking hand. he must have taken off his gloves at some point, which means that jinki's hands are probably similar. 

it's traitorous or selfish or maybe just horny if he wonders what the chances are of the rest of their bodies being human like. 

anyway. 

jinki turns to follow them, but kibum reaches out to grab him by the sleeve. jinki looks at him, confused, and then takes his own gloves off - and, yes, they are human-like too. he clips them to his belt and grabs for kibum's hand, his grip still as light as earlier. outside of the glove, his hand feels terribly small and delicate, easy to dwarf in kibum's.

'your ship,' he starts, then falters. taemin has already disappeared up the stairs. he starts moving back towards the alley, prattling about taemin's ability to preoccupy people, for lack of anything else; jinki keeps pace beside him, his eyes kept trained on kibum's face, dipping down to watch his lips move. kibum tries valiantly to ignore what that does to him.

he pushes out into the alley, where the ship is opened up, a couple pigeons perched on its antennae.

'you can work on it,' he says, semi-helplessly gesturing towards the ship with their still-joined hands. 'and i'll be inside - ' he puts his free hand to his chest and then nods his head towards the path they just took. ' - if you need anything.' he lets go of jinki's hand and tries to reiterate with slightly more smooth motions. 

jinki seems to get the gist of it, at first, but he grabs kibum's hand again and brings it up between them. bizarrely, kibum thinks he's about to kiss the back of it, he just has a gentle, warm look in his eyes that doesn't belong at all - but he doesn't. instead he meticulously opens his fingers, one by one, and then puts his gun-phone against his palm, and wraps his hand around to close it again. he maneuvers kibum's fingers into a series of motions, clicking a switch here, and there, until one of the screens lights up, with a series of lines running seamlessly from left to right. 

jinki meets his eyes seriously and brings the device to his mouth. he speaks, clear and decisive: 'jinki'.

then, he moves it back to kibum and nods encouragingly.

'um, okay,' he says. he leans in, and clears his throat. 'kibum.'

jinki nods again and releases his hold. he clutches his hands together in mimicry of kibum's own posture, and mouths silently. 

'you want me to talk into this,' he holds it closer to his mouth again, and, in doing so, notices the lines from earlier spiking with each syllable. oh. okay. translation device. or recording device. or... communicator? either way, it's not like it can do any harm. probably, anyway. his life is suddenly full of probabilities, when he had felt dead set on the certainty of failure.

'okay,' he says, deliberately slow, into the device, and is granted with a wide, happy smile from jinki. 

he starts backing away from jinki, out of his own preservation instincts and the need to get the salon opened on time. he keeps his eye on the alien, on the off chance he has misunderstood, but jinki is also turning away, casting one last glance back at kibum, and nodding encouragingly when kibum clicks the button and says 'goodbye' into it. if it sounds a little sappy, well, there's no one here to call him out on it.

when he steps back into the building, he takes a few deep breaths and buoys himself up to start the day. everything else before this moment won't count for a good 10 hours.

* * *

he can't hold it the entire time, it's just not possible. but he does keep it on whenever he has one hand free, from greeting customers and employees as they arrive to clock in. he puts it aside when he's intent on a cut, or a wash, conscious at all times of when he's left it alone, peeking more often down the back way. occasionally he catches a glimpse of yellow, and once he saw jinki staring upwards towards the sky, lost in thought.

it twangs something in his chest, that he has to push aside. 

he manages to get through the majority of his day like this, when his stomach suddenly and angrily growls. one of his stylists is nearby, and quirks an eyebrow at him.

'don't even start,' he says, and she sticks her tongue out, making him laugh. why not, he has to take a break at some time. he'll run upstairs and make sure minho and taemin are fine, and drag jinki along with him, and make sure he has something to eat to.

the question of what aliens eat is a good one, and kibum doesn't know, but he can at least _ask_. they're aliens, they can probably figure out if something will kill them.

'jinki,' he calls as he heads outside. there's a great clatter from the spaceship and jinki pops up, his lips parted and he lets out a pleased bark. kibum, fighting his own smile, motions for him to come down and simultaneously says 'let's eat some lunch, okay?' into the device.

'okay,' jinki repeats amiably, and kibum is positive he doesn't know what he's saying, but he isn't about to object to his sweet agreeability. especially considering they're going upstairs.

he waits semi-patiently for jinki to come down and then sneaks them both inside after looking, shooing jinki up the stairs. 

'taemin, minho, have you guys eaten anything yet?' kibum calls out as he turns the key - there's no click, taemin didn't even bother locking - and enters. he waves jinki inside and takes a quick scan to make sure everything is in order. it looks like there's plates in the sink, the TV is loud from around the wall, but neither taemin or minho are anywhere to be seen. but, if they ate, then that speaks positively towards jinki being able to eat something. he clicks the button and starts talking. 

'i'm going to give you some water. food...normally i'd just run out to GS25 and grab something, but i should have some packets here...taemin! what did you eat, i'm trying to feed for four here....' he trails off as he realizes he hasn't heard much of anything since coming in except the TV. he abruptly turns and jinki senses the sudden change in his mood, setting his shoulders back and walking with more caution into the underlit apartment.

it's a small place, with a hole of a bedroom and a bathroom split off from the hybrid kitchen/sitting area. there's only so many places for people to lurk. kibum throws open the door to the bedroom, half-expected taemin to have taken over his bed, and minho resigned to the small desk in the corner, his helmet a pillow. but no such find waits for him there. which means they've either left, and they're altogether fucked, or - 

jinki, following kibum's example, apparently is already turning the handle on the bathroom, and when he opens it he jumps back with a noise kibum can't even properly describe - it's like a gasp, gurgled through a mixer of soju and rock salt. when kibum takes the three steps necessary to arrive at his vantage point, minho is turned away, shoulders hunched in, his right arm in an all-too-human motion, and taemin is wiping his mouth and looking exceedingly - _exceedingly_ \- unapologetic.

'tell me you did not just _suck an extraterrestrial dick_ , taemin, jesus!'

jinki makes some more noises that kibum trusts has the same energy.

kibum has always known about taemin's hobgoblin-esque exploratory promiscuity. he only asks that his friend be safe, perfectly unbothered that his metaphorical line in the sand is the human race.

he, understandably, never expected to have that sanguine understanding stress-tested.

while he's been busy engaging in a one-sided staring contest, jinki has pulled minho out into the hallway, and is having a furious conversation that sounds halfway between static and muzak. kibum has to consciously tune them out, has to do something to communicate that this cannot happen again, and also - how the fuck did this happen?

'how the fuck did this happen?' he yells. 'i left you alone for a morning, and you put him _in your mouth_? you don't know where he's been!'

'space,' taemin says. 'and this apartment.'

'you don't even speak the same language, you - you _asshole_ \- how can you even call that consensual?' 

'hey,' taemin looks genuinely offended. 'i gave him some porn first and showed him how to turn it off and turn it back on. he found a blowjob one and had a boner. i _asked_ and made sure he was good with it. c'mon, hyung, i'm not that guy.'

'fine. you are still the guy who just _sucked_ _a dick_ without having any idea of what it could look like, or what - what it was like when he came - or if the - if it was _okay for you to swallow_.'

'i didn't swallow,' taemin looks incredibly pleased with himself for his foresight, and holds his hands up in the universal sign for _obviously_. 'it's fine.'

'it is no way _fine_ ,' kibum hisses. 'you are such a dumbass.'

as he lets out the invective he turns and faces the other pair, who have stopped their own discussion and are now looking at him with expressions of apology and confusion - jinki - and...resolve? consternation? whatever. minho doesn't look nearly apologetic enough for kibum's mood.

'you're a dumbass too,' he hisses, stabbing a finger at minho. 

'dumbass?' he parrots tentatively, pointing at himself, and then taemin. kibum rubs his temples.

'yes, exactly. both of you. glad we're all on the same page.'

'dumbass?' jinki asks, quieter, and pointing at himself.

'....no,' kibum responds, shaking his head. he can't even be bothered to try to explain, he just heads back to the kitchen. 'c'mon let's eat something. taemin, you are gargling and brushing your teeth first.'

'ok, but that means i have to use your toothbrush.'

the only respite kibum can take is that jinki helps him as best he can in the kitchen, monitoring the water he sets to boil and handing out the chopsticks when the convenience store ramyeon is done cooking.

* * *

he doesn't have much of a choice except to leave minho and taemin again. jinki seems much more opposed to it, pausing in at the bottom of the stairwell. he gestures towards kibum's pocket, where the edge of his device is poking out. at the motion, kibum pulls it out. 

'sorry, i forgot to use it upstairs. don't think you'd want to remember much of it, to be honest.'

jinki shakes his head, and silently holds his hand out. kibum passes it over, watching as he holds it up to the side of his head, and presses a smaller button. the device says 'jinki', then 'kibum', and the rest of all the little pieces of conversation kibum has had throughout the day, speeding up until it's completely unintelligible, spitting noise into jinki's waiting ear. when it finishes, jinki nods, a small smile.

'thank you,' he says, clearly, carefully watching kibum's face. 

'oh,' he replies faintly. 'you're learning? that helps you speak?'

jinki narrows his eyes in effort, and kibum realizes it's limited just to what has been recorded. has he talked about learning today, with the elderly mrs. park, or the chatty server from down the street? probably not. 'thank you' is thrown around so much in customer service, no wonder it's the first thing he picked up.

'you're welcome,' he says back, and jinki's smile is a quickly blooming thing that smacks kibum right across the face. he takes a step closer and presses it back into kibum's hand.

'use it more,' he asks softly. 'please.'

* * *

it's stupid, but he does. he memorizes the feel of pressing it just enough so it activates, and what it's like when his finger slips. he finds a little clip and fashions an attachment to his apron, so it's sitting on his collarbone. when there's an odd question about it, he says he's taking better notes of his day for record-keeping, and that seems to work well enough, though one or two stylists keep giving him odd looks. he doesn't acknowledge them.

at the back of his mind, he knows he's doing this for more than just improved communication, that he likes the way jinki smiles at him, the cadence of his voice when he says his name - the proud look in his eyes when they managed to exchange just a few words. he likes his steady, reserved presence. he has a sweet temperament that smooths down kibum's rough edges, just by being.

it's a crush. kibum brooks no self-deception. it hasn't been a week since he's broken up with his last boyfriend, and jinki is an alien, an actual alien, preparing to leave the planet, that he's known for all of nine hours. and he has a crush on him.

maybe when they lift off, he'll get burned up in the rocket fumes. frankly it's the only satisfiable outcome kibum can see from this.

he has one last appointment for the day, an older lady of the neighborhood who likes to talk, even when kibum doesn't. for once, this anticipated division doesn't bother him much, because it can be put to good use. he makes sure the button is pressed down and secure and leads mrs. choi to the chair, nodding along as she starts laying out her day, her impending anniversary, her entrenched drama with the other salon down the street (the cause for her patronage of kibum's location). it's all much formless noise to him, to be certain. luckily for him she doesn't need a partner to have a conversation, and he's lost in the focus of trimming when there's an unmistakable 'kibum?' from his right. 

both he and mrs. choi turn to find jinki standing there, lavender hair a stringy mess, coated through with goop. kibum almost swears in dismay, stopping himself only in the nick of time. he looks down at mrs. choi and, before he can say anything, she swats up at him like they're friends. important to note that they are not friends, but kibum needs the money, and also needs jinki to stay undiscovered.

'jinki,' he says cautiously. 'what's wrong?'

visibly uncertain on how to proceed, jinki raises his shoulders, and lets them drop. 

'it's a mess,' he says, and, yes, kibum did call a few things a mess today. 'i need to clean up. upstairs. okay?'

'oh honey,' mrs. choi says, feigning an unwarranted level of camaraderie. 'you really do. are you kibum's boyfriend?'

'friend,' kibum hastily corrects. he doesn't need to get himself into a fake-boyfriend scenario for further emotional torture. he looks square at jinki and nods. 'okay. take my key and go upstairs. wash.'

jinki nods, and kibum is grateful, glad that he managed to phrase it in a way he could understand. he excuses himself to go to the desk and pulls out the key ring, wiggling out his apartment key. jinki saw him use his key earlier, right? he should be able to figure it out. he takes a moment to send a text to taemin too to warn him.

'thank you,' jinki says again, and kibum dips his head back, oddly formal, and familiarly warm with pleasure when jinki turns with a small smile. 

mrs. choi should go back to her old stylist, he'll lose her business gladly, because she greets him with a loud 'how handsome your friend is! you must be close, to let him use your shower.'

she says the last part with a relish to her voice, and god, kibum could kill her so easily. he laughs, hollowly, and she continues on. 

'he's very polite too. have you known him long?'

'no.'

'mmmm, well. if you don't mind me saying, you shouldn't let him get away. and he seems to like you too!'

'well it doesn't matter who we like. can't really help that he's leaving town soon,' he says tightly.

she lets out a hiss of disappointment. he could give her a terrible asymmetrical cut in return.

'well, that's too bad. he seems to like you well enough, and well enough could be, well, enough to get him to stay!' she laughs gaily. 

'ha ha,' he says.

* * *

'hey, it's me,' he calls through the door. knocking on his own door is just the way to end this day, tired and more emotional than he ever cares to disclose. 'let me in already.'

he hopes taemin hasn't gotten so far as to fuck minho. or let minho fuck him. or let minho suck his dick. if there's any chance they're incompatible, then spitting could hardly have been the apex of protection. taemin could be rotting from the mouth in, or minho from the dick out. 

a small, tiny part of him thinks they'd deserve it. a larger part says if that happened, his crush on jinki would have the shit topper of misfortune it deserves. just to round it out perfectly.

he knows jinki must still be up there - because he checked out back before locking up, and the ship was half-dissembled, with jinki nowhere to be seen even when kibum called out - but he did not expect it to be jinki opening the door. he also did not expect jinki to be wearing some of his clothes, an oversized sweatshirt that makes him look like a college student. 

'hi kibum,' he says, and he beams when he says, 'welcome back.'

it's so _cute_ , is the thing, so exceedingly domestic and homely that kibum may not survive its cruelty, knowing it won't last.

'i washed,' he continues as kibum sets down his things blindly. 'taemin gave me clothes.'

'good,' he croaks. he fishes out the device before he can forget, hands it over to jinki's obvious pleasure. he holds it up to his ear, and kibum just watches his face, his eyes closed, as he learns. it's not fair, is it? _life's not fair_ , is what they always say, but they're talking about things like losing your job, being left behind by the people you thought were you friends. not being teased with happiness, with love, and having it literally leave for the stars.

well, maybe there's an astronaut or something who can relate. whatever. kibum isn't about to argue technicalities with his own feelings.

'where's taemin and minho?' he asks, instead, when jinki has finished and is setting the device back down in the table. kibum presses the button before he asks, leaning back against the couch. he might as well keep giving his words, it's all he can do. 

'they went out,' jinki says. 'for food.'

'okay,' kibum says. he's tired, but jinki looks like he's on the precipice of a question, and kibum knows he's going to have to say goodbye, so he doesn't wave it off. 

'earlier,' he starts. 'taemin and minho. what are they doing?'

trust him to ask the hard question. 

'sex,' he says. he hasn't said it at all today, it's not something you talk about with your customers. he's open, but he's not _that_ open. he casts his mind back to some of the idle chatter from the afternoon. 'they kissed. taemin was making him happy.'

'oh,' jinki says. he sounds unfinished. he brings his fingers to his lips, and asks in confirmation. 'kissed?'

kibum nods. 

'okay,' jinki says, then repeats it to himself. 'kibum?'

'yes?'

'does kissing make you happy?'

he snorts.

'sometimes.'

jinki tilts his head, his brows gone quizzical. there isn't enough vocabulary between them to explain it, but something in his eyes feels compassionate, and - kibum is just sunk. there's no way he's getting out of this without some damage.

'you're good,' he says, plain and honest. kibum flushes and turns away, but jinki continues speaking. 'you're good to us and to others. you should be happy.'

'i want to be,' kibum confesses to his hands. 'i want to be happy.'

jinki moves to his side, the couch arm between them. 

'"sometimes"', he says back to him. he touches his lips, and then reaches out, stopping short of touching kibum, but pointing towards him all the same. 'tonight?'

kibum looks at him, and considers a thousand things that don't matter, because he's already saying 'yes', already watching jinki go down on one knee, then the other, folds his arms across the couch until his hands are resting on kibum's upper arms. he smells like his soap, but in this light his brown eyes spark orange once more, and there's a buzzing beneath his touch that hasn't been there before, and then he can see every star in his eyes, can see countless worlds in every freckle, and he surrenders at the first brush of jinki's lips against his.

it's only a momentary touch, but it lives past its occurrence. isn't that a thing? like the light shining down well after the sun had exploded, kibum can still feel his lips after he moves away. 

jinki asks.

'are you happy?'

the light is blinking out.

kibum shakes his head, manages to smile a little. 

'not tonight.'

* * *

he closes the salon the next morning, contacting the few appointments by phone call to make sure they get the notice. minho and taemin both slept on the couch overnight, wrapped up in each other, while jinki slept on the floor. the blanket kibum had lent him wrapped tightly around his form. it turned out his bathroom was hosting their suits, the helmets on the floor of the shower, so kibum just washed up the best he could with the sink, brushing his teeth with his finger on the recollection of taemin's earlier use.

apparently minho had also lent his device to taemin for a similar purpose, so the morning was filled with a lot more korean than he was used to, most of it full of minho's innocently profane conversations. 

'you had to corrupt him,' he had wearily warned taemin after minho had given an enthusiastic definition of a rimjob to jinki. 

'it was educational,' taemin retorted, and in a way, it was. it was certainly more straightforward than anything kibum had given jinki. but still, jinki had cast him his own looks, alternating between amusement and confusion. kibum shrugged helplessly and tapped their shared device reassuringly. 

for now, it was much of the same as yesterday, minho and taemin keeping each other company while jinki worked on the ship. kibum was stewing over his business, trying to think past today, or tomorrow, to the return to his regular life. 

it was much easier when jinki wasn't calling him out, excitement laced through his voice.

'kibum! come here!'

he gets up and heads out to the back. the ship looks great, with jinki perched atop the cockpit, half his body hidden inside. 

'good news?' he asks, careful to have the button clicked. 

'yes! very good!' he yells joyfully back. 'come here!'

'how?' he asks, because he doesn't feel like possibly cracking his back from falling onto the pavement. jinki laughs, the slightly alien rhythm of it, and extracts himself, climbing down with no problem at all. when he meets kibum, he turns to present his back and leans forward slightly.

'get on,' he says.

'it's called a piggyback ride,' kibum says uncertainly. he reaches out to touch the broad expanse of his back, before retracting. 'are you sure?'

'yes!' jinki says. 

well, when it's said like that, kibum does his best, hopping awkwardly up and wrapping his legs around his hips. jinki grabs at his ankles and starts up, so that kibum is sitting further up on his back. he still smells like kibum's soap, even back as he is in his suit, and it's making the whole experience that much more surreal as jinki clambers easily back up to where he was. 

'um, jinki, it's a little small,' because the entry is. looking into it, he's not sure how jinki expects both of them to fit, when he must have just had enough room to squeeze his lower half into the porthole-sized space. jinki shakes his head.

'it's not small,' he explains, without explaining. 'watch.'

he starts squeezing himself in, getting to his earlier position of being cut off at the waist. when he moves to slide down further, his upper half disappears in a blink, leaving the gap empty. 

'what the fuck - jinki!' he yells, looking down and also watching his own step, now paranoid about being transported god knows where.

'it's okay!' comes his voice from - inside? kibum peers closer and can't see him at all. anxiously, he dips one toe into the space, but nothing happens. as though entering a cold pool, he starts to clamber in, toe, foot, knee, then the other. all of the sudden he can feel a grip around his ankle and shrieks in fear, starting to kick out before jinki's voice calls out again.

'it's me, i'm here.'

'okay,' he says, chanting it to himself, once, twice - on the third time he bends his knees to go lower, and just as the metal siding brushes his belly button he can feel _something_ wrap around him, like a squeezing flash of warmth, and then he really is being squeezed, by jinki's solid arms, the alien smiling at him reassuredly.

'not small,' he says, and releases him so kibum can see he's now inside a spaceship a good three times bigger than it was on the outside.

'yep. you're right,' he concedes. 'not small.'

'i want to show you something,' jinki says, and he takes him to the front. out of the window he can see the entry into his salon, and beneath it is an expanse of controls. on the far left, there's a screen with another alien, his helmet off, pink hair almost cartoonishly bright. 

'jonghyun,' jinki says, with clear affection in his voice. 'kibum.'

'hi,' kibum says, waving. jonghyun waves back, but doesn't speak, clearly turning to look at jinki to translate.

he's gotten so used to jinki talking in korean that it's disorienting to hear him let out those indiscernible noises again, and to hear jonghyun respond back in kind, but he doesn't want to interrupt the clearly happy reunion. jinki is smiling wide, and jonghyun's a bit softer, but obviously genuine. 

they're talking about his coming home. kibum wraps his arms around his torso and waits, because what else can he do? this was an accident, after all, and accidents get fixed.

they are talking for a while, it seems, their tones shifting into something more serious - as best kibum can tell - so he takes a step back and begins looking around. the ship is bigger than outside, but clearly was only ever meant for two - two seats, two beds towards the back. there has to be some food for their journeys, kept somewhere, or maybe they were fed nutrients, like in the matrix, until it was time to wake up. it's a big universe, and jinki is meant to be somewhere else in it. not here. not with kibum.

'done,' jinki says, cutting through kibum's thoughts. when he turns back, jinki is looking at him, so he comes forward. from the screen, jonghyun looks pleased to have jinki (and minho, but - you know - fuck him, he goes in the same bucket as taemin) coming back soon. 

'done?' he asks and jinki nods, pleasure evident on his face. he performs a complex little signal with his hands that jonghyun reciprocates, and then reaches out to turn it off.

'can we go outside?' kibum asks, because he doesn't think he can stand to be in this ship anymore, with its two seats, two beds, and engine ready to leave. he moves aimlessly back towards where jinki caught him, and jinki lets out that alien laugh, richer for having talked to jonghyun, high off of his happiness.

'there,' he guides kibum to one of the circles decorating the floor, hand gently clutching at his elbow. 'wait.'

that bright, warm flash and kibum is on top of the ship, with taemin and minho looking up at him from the blacktop. before he can make an excuse for his expression - because he can feel it - he can feel the pressure of tears at the corner of his eyes, jinki appears as well. he turns and leans forward again, inviting kibum to ride his back once more, and kibum - he's not proud of this at all - he clutches jinki in a hug from behind, before jumping up into the piggyback. 

they climb down together, kibum burying his face in jinki's neck. he's sure he can feel a snotty tear or two, and wipes it across his yellow suit before sliding off.

'ready?' minho asks, anticipation evident in his voice. 

'ready,' jinki says. in unison they make that hand signal jinki just shared with jonghyun, and kibum clears his throat.

'thanks for - thanks for crashing into our planet,' he offers, with a respectable command of his voice. 

'it was our pleasure,' jinki says. 

'literally,' taemin interrupts, elbowing at minho, and the taller alien blushes with a greenish tint. he steps forward to be side by side with jinki, and they each bow forward to taemin and kibum, from their waist, in perfect form. 

then, jinki turns to minho:

'i've spoken to jonghyun about the return, and he is prepared,' and he turns to taemin, who - kibum is now noticing - has a bag over his shoulder. 'i have marked all foods that can be eaten. do not stare at the stars too long; you will burn your eyes out.'

'what,' says kibum.

'i brought sunglasses,' taemin argues.

'that's not enough,' minho says, and jinki is handing him his helmet, and minho is moving to place it over taemin's head, and jinki is taking off his suit, revealing one of kibum's old t-shirts, and some sweatpants, and - 

'what,' says kibum.

'i want to stay,' jinki says. as he steps out of his suit, he stumbles, and minho catches him with long practice. he moves forward and kibum instinctively turns away from minho and taemin's gazes, trying to find some privacy, to find some equilibrium, because jinki is talking like - 

'i like you,' he says.

'you don't know what that means,' kibum says, but jinki smiles.

'yes, i do,' he says, gentle, always gentle. 'i'm not leaving town.'

mrs. choi, and kibum's fingers on the button, keeping it on. jinki pressing the device against his ear, listening carefully and telling kibum he should be happy. 

'it's not fair to you,' kibum says again, because he is selfish, he has always wanted more for himself, and in his experience what he wants, doesn't agree to be had. 'your planet - '

'my planet doesn't have you.'

jinki closes his hands over his. 

'kibum,' he says. 'will kissing make you happy today?'

'yes,' he whispers, and jinki smiles. there are stars in his eyes.

the space between them closes, their lips pressed together, the world is shaking, rumbling like it never has before and jinki is holding him close as the ship lifts off, taemin pressed against the window like a bug. behind him, minho waves, the light bouncing off his helmet. 

jinki is pressing another kiss to kibum's hair as he watches the ship become smaller and smaller, until it's little more than another dot of white among the clouds.

and kibum - 

he's happy.

**Author's Note:**

> if we keep our fingers crossed, may get a coda where kibum will get his underlying alien body questions answered.


End file.
